Blindsided
by eloquentgraffitti
Summary: AU: Two old college buddies, Jackson Avery and Matthew Taylor, hang out at a bar, where Jackson asks Matthew to pick a girl for him to try and charm...
1. Chapter 1

_**Hi all! Haven't written in quite some time so apologies if I'm a bit rusty. Hope you enjoy this story!**_

_A bar, two old friends; one a paramedic, the other a doctor, enjoying a drink, getting up to old tricks:_

"Her."

"Oh come on, make it more challenging would you? All I'd have to do is flutter my eyes at her and she'd fall. "

Matthew took a sip of his drink. "For you? "

"Yeah"

There was a pause.

"Why'd you say that?"

Jackson didn't look at his friend, and instead kept his gaze locked on the riveting red head at the far end of the bar.

"I know her type, _and_ I'll tell you her story. She was the nerd back in high school. Until she suddenly grew some boobs and her figure filled out which suddenly put her in the _hot_ category. Her figure grew, certainly, but her-self esteem didn't."

Something flickered in Matthew's eyes, which went unnoticed by Jackson.

"So you think she'd go for any guy." Mathew made it a statement, not a question.

Jackson narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "No, not any guy, maybe not." He paused, thinking. "No, she wouldn't go for any guy." He said again, straightening up in his seat, this time sounding more sure.

He glanced at Matthew and gave a sudden grin. "But she'd definitely go for me. "

Matthew gave a bark of laughter. "Certainly think a lot of yourself Avery. "

Jackson smirked. "If I don't, who will?"

Matthew shook his head. Some things never changed. Jackson Avery had always been a player. His ability to entice girls with those dewy blue eyes of his had always been nothing short of amazing. For a guy who was so averse to taking advantage of his prestigious family name, Avery had no problem taking advantage of his God given good looks when it came to the opposite sex. Back in college, Matthew had unwittingly become a sidekick to this little game Jackson had invented. Whilst hanging out at a bar, out of pure boredom, Jackson had asked Matthew to pick a girl for Jackson to try and charm. Matthew, part half-drunk and part bored himself, had gone along with it, and it had become this…this _thing_, that had kept happening every time they hit a bar. Matthew, having always been the straight shooter with the steady girlfriend, sometimes hated himself for it, as he didn't think it was fair to the girls. But for some mysterious reason, every girl that Avery charmed and ended up sleeping with, then dating for maybe two weeks maximum, had never seemed to hold a grudge against him afterwards. Heck, the guy ended up becoming friends with most of them and, Matthew knew, _still _kept in touch with some of them.

Matthew scrutinized his friend thoughtfully. The two old college buddies, now fully grown men with responsible jobs that kept them apart for most of the year, had decided to catch up whilst Jackson was in Seattle scoping out a nearby hospital that his family's medical foundation was interested in acquiring. Avery wasn't a bad dude. Far from it; the guy had a big heart and was loyal almost to a fault. Matthew had never once seen him throw his money around like some other rich assholes he had been around in his life. Jackson was one of the most down to earth people he knew, someone he could always count on to have his back. He just got a little conceited when it came to his ability to almost instantly charm any woman he wanted, which is precisely why Matthew was certain that the idea that had started to form in his mind the minute Jackson had asked him to pick a girl would work.

The girl in question, the topic of their current discussion, now sat at the other end of the bar, head bowed so that a sheet of her red hair covered her pale face.

"Yup, she would go for me" He heard Jackson murmur to himself.

"Go on, then" Matthew nodded at Jackson, bowing his head towards the girl in a way that said, _prove it._

* * *

"So, I have this story…"

He was soft spoken, she decided. Not because he was afraid to raise his voice, but because he knew how much more of a statement he made when he didn't. Every word rolled off his tongue with a quiet confidence, yet it didn't threaten, didn't challenge, only invited; invited conversation, lighthearted banter, even a drink or two at the bar…

And then…

She'd be right where he wanted her. Blindsided.

Jackson let his gaze touch her gentle features as he spoke, catching the way her skin glowed underneath the dim lighting, the way her hair, the color of sunrises and red constellations, framed her delicate face, a few wisps caressing it lightly here and there. He tilted his head slightly to peek into her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of their color, and felt a slight twinge of disappointment when she hooded her gaze, seemingly losing herself in the dark depths of the swirling drink in her hand.

"I hear well."

She said. Her voice had a husky tone to it, and he had listened to people long enough in his life to know that the huskiness could only have resulted from pent up emotions. Whatever she was trying say was important to her; something she had struggled to articulate for some time now, but never knew how to.

She cleared her throat; slender hands trembling slightly as she gently pushed her drink away from her.

"I hear well."

She said again, her voice stronger this time, firm, filled with resolve.

"Extraordinarily well." She almost whispered, and he leaned into hear better, fascinated.

This isn't how he had imagined this going at all. He had expected nerves, stuttering, a loss for words, a faint tinge to her cheeks as he persuaded her to look into his eyes, the way it always went with girls like her. Girls who looked inexperienced and naive enough to blush and look flustered the minute he turned on his charm.

But not this.

"But they say that that's normal. That all your other senses suddenly become more fine tuned when you go blind."

She dropped the bomb.

He sucked in a breath.

_Oh shit._

"Suddenly you can smell the world and sense when someone is standing out of your line of vision. Your brain grows on the inside, and things on the outside start to matter less."

She said softly, and he swallowed, tilting his head once more to glance into her eyes, not because of curiosity, not because he was an unfeeling bastard with the sole intention of snaking a look to see whether her blindness was discernible by her eyes, but because he felt this sudden urge to gaze into her soul.

"Someone read that quote from an essay to me once."

She clarified.

He watched, struggling to find something to say, as she lithely stepped off the bar stool, pale hands once again trembling, although her voice had no such quality to it. He almost reached out to help her as her fingers fumbled with her coat, but stopped short, suddenly feeling cold, as her soft voice whispered, not looking at him but staring straight ahead, confident that he can hear her.

"So I heard your conversation with your friend..."

Jackson closed his eyes, opening his mouth to apologize, knowing full well that nothing excused his actions.

"…and you can tell him that you can't blindside me. Not when I'm already blind."

Jackson found himself unable to speak. Hearing soft footsteps, he quickly opened his eyes, seeing her already making her way out of the bar, noting how sure her movements were, as if she had done so countless times. He sighed, the lingering smell of her perfume wafting by his nose, as if mocking him, scornfully poking into his ego and arrogance, humbling him with her humbleness...

* * *

Jackson made his way back to Matthew, still shaken up by his brief encounter with the red head, not knowing what to tell his old friend.

"She certainly knows how to make a statement doesn't she?" Matthew stated nonchalantly, as Jackson rejoined him, expression doleful.

Jackson looked at his friend with disbelieving eyes. "You…you knew?!" he asked, aghast.

Matthew nodded, a wistful look in his own eyes. "Asked her out a couple months ago, she said no. I don't think she remembers me. Certainly makes you think twice though…"

Jackson breathed in through his nose, his nostrils flaring. "You're an asshole you know that?"

Matthew turned his head, looking at the other man amusedly. "Me? So you tell me to pick a girl for you at a bar, any girl, it didn't matter, just so you can still prove to me that the old "Avery charm" and those wide baby blues of yours still work, and _I'm_ the ass?"

Jackson stared at his friend, unimpressed, but with begrudging respect. He noted the forlorn look in the other man's expression, things clicking rapidly in his head as to what must have happened two months ago.

"She got to you that bad huh?" Jackson tried to sound cocky, knowing as soon as the words came out of his mouth that he had failed miserably.

Matthew looked at him

"She didn't get to you?" He asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Yeah…" Jackson breathed.

Matthew nodded.

"She's just…unlike anyone else I've met before, you know? I'll come in here from time to time, sit, nurse a drink, and she'd be here at eight o'clock sharp, right on schedule, every day. Sometimes she would come in with a friend, chat with her, and then gaze off into the distance when the friend would leave her to play darts. Other times she'd be alone, order a drink, and sit there thinking. About what, I never got to find out. I did find out that she was blind when I went to try and talk to her and Joe, our bar tender, told me I better be careful with her because he loved her like a daughter and part of the reason she w as blind was because of him…"

Matthew looked at his friend. "I don't know how it's his fault though. Never got to know the rest of that story." He got up with a sigh, leaving a wad of cash at the bar and nodding to Jackson.

"Anyway, gotta go home dude, early shift tomorrow. Good to see you back in Seattle man. Hope you stick around this time. "

"Oh, I think I will." Jackson said to himself, as he watched Matthew make his way out of the bar, his mind completely occupied by a flaming red head with the fascinating back-story.

**Thoughts? Leave a review? **


	2. Chapter 2

True to his word, Jackson decided to stick around in Seattle, a decision that was made easier due to the acquisition of the Seattle Grace Mercy West hospital by the Harper-Avery foundation. Upon learning that Jackson was interested in taking up a fellowship at the very same hospital, he was almost immediately anointed head of the hospital board by Catherine Avery, Jackson's overbearing mother and foundation chairwoman extraordinaire; a position which, much to Jackson's dismay, was seen as blatant nepotism by the rest of the acting board members. In addition to being met with no small amount of resentment from said board members, Jackson had a difficult time adjusting to his new fellowship under the head of plastics at Seattle Grace Mercy West, Dr. Mark Sloan, who somehow seemed to have taken an instant dislike to Jackson the moment he set foot in the O.R.

For some time now, his only solace had been his unwavering hope of seeing a lovely red head at a certain bar, but as the days stretched into weeks, contrary to what Matthew had said, not so much as an apparition with ginger tresses framing pale cheeks appeared at the far end of the bar at 8PM sharp every night.

The enigmatic red head's absence from the bar seemed to be felt not only by Jackson, but by Matthew as well. Although the other man went to great lengths to try and hide it, Jackson couldn't help but notice the way his eyes flickered several times to the spot she would normally occupy whenever he thought he wasn't looking. It seemed to be mutually agreed upon by both men through some sort of unspoken communication, that any mention of the woman they both seemed to be interested in would only be confined to casual observances of her absence. Matthew seemed to have instinctively come to the realization of the true reason behind Jackson's decision to remain in Seattle, and Jackson, for his part, had already felt the undertones of Matthew's attraction to the red head.

* * *

Three weeks would pass by from their initial encounter for Jackson to see her again. His curiosity was piqued especially when she came in with a small brunette he recognized immediately as Dr. Jo Wilson, a resident at Seattle Grace Mercy West who, as far as he could gather, seemed to be having somewhat of a rocky affair with one of his new colleagues at the hospital, Dr. Alex Karev. Jackson felt Matthew stiffen beside him and looked to the other man, realizing the implications behind his and Matthew's interest in the same woman for the first time. He loved Matthew like a brother, but when it came to the red head, Jackson wasn't sure he'd be able to back off out of respect for his friend if things came to a head. He didn't like where this may lead and started to feel the pressure to be completely honest with Matthew, a task which, as a man, he didn't particularly look forward to.

But Jackson wasn't a man to loiter around or beat about the bush. When he felt the need to be direct about something to someone, he didn't waste any time. Thankfully, Matthew seemed to have come to a similar realization of his own.

"Listen man…"

"Yeah, I know..."

And that was the extent of that. The rest of their conversation did not involve words. Each seemed to know the other's concern, and what followed was a long wordless glance which contained everything from acknowledging a challenge, to accepting the hand they would be each be dealt with, with dignity, when the time came. Finally, when Matthew let his gaze fall first, he couldn't help but wonder whether the writing was already on the wall.

Jackson looked away from Matthew and towards her, watching as her friend gently took her hand and placed in on the glass the bar keep put in front of her. He watched as those slender hands that had once trembled when talking to him embraced the glass, holding on as if for dear life.

"Her name's April."

Matthew said in a low voice.

Jackson didn't look away.

"You couldn't have told me that the other day?"

"You were interested enough in her as it was. I didn't want to give you any more ammunition than you already had."

"Ironic, since it was you picking her that kinda started it all."

Jackson's lip quirked up at one corner and Matthew gave him a rueful smile, and a song came on the sound system:

_She can kill with a smile_

_She can wound with her eyes_

_She can ruin your faith with her casual lies_

_And she only reveals what she wants you to see_

_She hides like a child_

_But she's always a woman to me_

Jackson stood up suddenly. Then sat back down, looking almost ashamed of himself, as he looked at Matthew and said:

"So it's okay if I…"

"I already asked her out so you get to go first now…"

Matthew wasn't smiling this time.

* * *

She was as guarded as they came.

Getting her to reveal something as simple as her name (which he couldn't, of course, divulge to her that he already knew), had been like pulling teeth. She kept her gaze hooded, almost to the point where he was frustrated, then suddenly looked straight at him, taking his breath away. She may have not been able to see in the traditional sense of the word, but when those deep hazel pools gazed at you, he felt strangely exposed, vulnerable, as if she was slowly but gently picking away at his most guarded secrets, without even having to try.

And he was willing to let her. God, he had fallen so hard, and she had no idea.

His gazed flickered to her lips as she licked them, and said gently:

"I know I didn't start off on the right foot with you, and you have every right to not trust me. But I-"

"What do you do, Jackson Avery?" She asked suddenly.

He had just revealed his own name to her a few moments ago, and had watched as a flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes, but hadn't thought much of it.

"I-"

"Avery, as in Harper-Avery?" She interrupted him again.

He took in a breath.

"I- yes…"

Her gentle voice was laced in amusement this time.

"So you took over Seattle Grace Mercy West?"

"Well – yes, although I wouldn't say _take over_ – I…it was more like…"

"My friend's boyfriend wants to kill you, you know. The whole hospital doesn't seem all that pleased with you…"

He couldn't believe it. And she had said that so casually, as if they had been having a long winded conversation for ages now, and she had just decided to drop this little tidbit of information for entertainment's sake. When really, around two seconds ago, he had felt like trying to get her to say anything was seemingly a lost cause.

"I –"

He tried again, hopelessly feeling out of his depth.

"I used to be a doctor." She said softly, and he watched, entranced, as she gazed off into the distance in front of her, her expression one of sadness.

"Trauma."

She suddenly looked at him, and he had no idea how she seemed to know exactly where he was, how she seemed to be able to focus her gaze – albeit after faulting nervously for a few seconds – exactly on his face. But she always recovered, always took on a staunch attitude of casualness, as if trying to hide the loss of her eyesight. And she was very good at it.

"Trauma was my specialty". She finished, looking straight at him.

He swallowed, unable to look away.

"That's…wow." He got out. "I could never do that, you know…I was never good in emergency situations."

God, he wanted to know so much about her. What happened to her, to her eyes? Did she miss her career? Is she okay? Was she doing something dangerous on the job that led to the loss of her eyesight? He had no idea how the tables had been turned. He was usually the confident, witty dude, charming ladies with a quirk of his brow and a thoughtful remark. But she was changing the game, and he didn't know the moves.

"Why are you talking to me, Jackson Avery?" She asked. "Are you still trying to prove something to your friend?"

"No! _No_. I-that was wrong of me, I'm sorry."

He laid his hand on her arm, and she gave a start, making him withdraw it quickly, trying not to scare her away. He could sense her nervousness, her distrust of him, and it frustrated him.

He didn't know what to say to make his case, so he could only be honest.

"Look, after that, that day…" He sighed.

"You're like no one I've ever met. I just want to get to know you….and…"

He swallowed thickly. Here comes the moment of truth, he thought. He didn't know why he was so nervous, why her answer to his next question seemed so important to him, but it was.

"I wanted to ask if you would go on a date with me." He said in a rush.

"I don't think…"

Jackson's heart started beating a little faster.

"Please, one date."

He didn't realize how desperate he sounded.

"I don't know you, I can't trust you."

Her voice was soothing, as if she was trying to let him down gently.

Jackson swallowed.

"The barkeep, Joe, he knows you right? Is like a father to you? Matthew told me – my friend, he asked you out once, and you said no, but before that, Joe had talked to him – "

Her eyes glowed at the mention of Joe, for a fraction of a second, a long simmering fire on embers suddenly blazing to light then dying almost immediately, but Jackson's brain was working too hard, thinking of a way to convince her of a date, that he never noticed.

"Tell him he can come with us. He can supervise. "

Jackson couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth, that he was actually suggesting they go on a supervised date, like some 13 year olds from high school, but he would do anything to make her feel safe.

"From a respectable distance of course."

He added as an afterthought. He didn't want the guy _too_ close.

She ducked her red head and looked down at the floor, and Jackson tilted his just enough to see her trying to hide a smile. His soul warmed up at the sight, and he asked, almost shyly:

"What?"

She raised her head again, turning it just slightly enough towards the sound of his voice, features composed into a perfectly serious expression, as she asked with a mischievous glint in her eye whether he really wanted to go on a supervised date.

He wanted to kiss her.

Right there, in that damn bar, on those cherubic red lips that were trying hard not to tilt up at the corners. He held back his impulse with difficulty, instead choosing to let his fingertips slowly stroke a soft cheek.

She stiffened up, eyes losing some of their glow, and he cursed himself for making her put her guard up again, muttering a hasty "sorry" before dropping his hand.

He started in surprised when she reached out both her hands to take one of his, fingertips slowly tracing over each of his, grazing over his knuckles, turning the palms up to softly stroke them. He never knew that it was possible to be so turned on by someone merely stroking his hand. She was staring straight ahead, not saying a word, with a small frown in between her perfect brows and he was vaguely aware of leaning towards her despite himself, until his lips were almost touching her cheek, when her voice seemed to come out of nowhere.

"What's your specialty?

It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about, that she was just as well versed in the world of medicine as he is, before he replied, his voice sounding hoarse:

"Plastics."

She gave a smile, and his heart squeezed once again.

"You have the hands for it." She stated softly.

"And you should stop staring at me so much, Jackson Avery. I swear I'm real."

He almost laughed. God, she had a quick wit, which she only seemed to let out in sudden bursts. He swallowed, her words about how she was able to sense when someone was looking at her echoing in his mind.

She let go of his hand, and he instantly felt the loss. "Pick me up here at 7 tomorrow. I'll take you to a place I know."

She was dictating the terms, she was taking the lead.

And he would follow her anywhere.

**Thanks for all the reviews everyone! I enjoyed writing this chapter. Jackson is a cutie pie, and April has an old soul ;) Reviews to let me know your thoughts would be nice! **

**Also wanted to add that there's more to unravel about April and her past...as well as her relationship with Matthew and Jackson so stay tuned...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi all, please excuse all spelling errors, etc. I'm kinda in a hurry, but wanted to get this posted. I'm sorry for the late update, I've been down with a cold /sore throat and it has not been fun lol. Hope you enjoy the update (I'll correct any errors later).**

She took him to a place he'd never been to before. It was dark from the outside, and was magnificent on the inside. He didn't know how he had missed it; for all the years he had lived in Seattle, he had never set foot in this place. It was an old fashined town house, converted into a restaurant slash café slash dance club slash whatever else that may take your fancy. They were greeted at the door by a quirky man in a striped uniform and a lopsided hat who tipped his hat at April dutifully and addressed her as Ms. Kepner. Jackson watched as her face lit up at the sound of the waiter's words, and she did not hesitate to ask him if he just tipped his hat, to which the waiter gave a smile and a yes, making April giggle. Much to Jackson's curiosity, April seemed to know the staff very well, and even asked for the manager, but was told that it was his night off.

She was different, he thought to himself, as he watched her. At the bar she had seemed…pensive, weighted down, nostalgic.

Here, she was all light air and breathless laughs. The interior of whatever place April took him to was very stately, with small but exquisitely laid tables bathed in the soft glow of candles dotting the spacious dining room. Before he could sit down though, she was asking him to take her arm and dragging him through a doorway and down a narrow hallway as if she knew the place like the back of her hand, her hands reaching out to steady herself occasionally. Every waiter they passed by nodded and made sure to murmur a gentle greeting to her, and her face lit up every single time. She seemed to instinctively know where to go and they eventually stood outside a darkened doorway with a pink neon sign that hung on top of it that said "dance floor." She stood outside for a minute, and he took the time to just look at her. She was frowning, concentrating hard on something he wasn't privy to, her face bathed in the soft rose glow of the lights. Her lips were pursed together, and he wanted to press his own against them, taste her, melt into her.

Before he could do anything though she had dragged him inside, and this time, he had to guide her so that she didn't get jostled by the other dancers. Her smile faltered for just a second and it must have been his imagination but he thought she almost looked like she was about to cry, but the next time he looked at her, she was laughing breathlessly.

He twirled her around, wanting to keep her laughing, gentle and protective, taking care so that she didn't bump into anyone around her. They began to ease into conversation as they danced. She was curious; about his mother, especially, and he found it amusing how much she seemed to know about her. She chatted freely about the numerous times she had referenced his mother's work for research papers at College, and whereas he found other people inquiring about his family intrusive, he sensed no ulterior motive in her, which made him open up to her. After awhile he got tired of talking about himself and asked her about her family. What do they do, where are they, does she miss them.

And she twirled and twirled and told him that they were dead. All of them. Plane crash.

His world slowed down to a snail's pace.

The smile disappeared from his face, his grip on her hand tightened, but she went on twirling, faster and faster, her laugh ringing in his ears, while he watched as if in slow motion. When she stopped, all he wanted to do was clutch her to his chest, but she didn't seem as affected by what she had said as he was. In fact, she was downright carefree. She proceeded to drag out of the dance floor down another hallway, instinctively groping till she found a hidden entrance and leading him up a flight of stairs. The whole time he was afraid she might trip and fall, but she didn't miss a step.

When they reached the top, his throat was dry, the gravity of what she had just revealed to him continuously hitting him over the head like a sledgehammer. But he hardly had a moment to dwell on it before she was yanking him back to the present, flashing that dimpled smile. Looking around, he saw that they were on the rooftop. Miles and miles of sky and miles and miles of Seattle stretched out before them, the city lights blinking up at them while the stars glimmered down.

"This is my favorite." She whispered.

He swallowed, his mind working a mile a minute, thinking of how to bring the topic back around to her parents, how to ask her what happened to them, not really caring about their surroundings.

She suddenly frowned, and her hand slipped from his.

"April?"

"You're not looking." She pouted. "Are you?"

"Looking? What are you-"

"Look around you! Like, _really_ look. I wish I could. I wish I can take in everything. Every single light whether it's coming from a home or a traffic light, every single star, the lone ones and the ones in clusters. I can hear the traffic, I can hear the people talking, laughing down there on the street, but I can't look. _You_ can."

"Isn't it beautiful?" She asked.

He suddenly got it.

Her voice had quieted down to a low murmur.

"That's why I love this place. It's the only place I can remember every last detail of. It's almost impossible to forget. I mean I can find my way around my room, the hospital, places I used to frequent, but not to this extent. I don't know why, but this place has something about it…a magic to it. It's – it's like this big colorful bird in the middle of a black and white jungle, not afraid to be different, not afraid to stand out."

She blinked, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

"I grew up here; my uncle was the manager once, that's why I know the staff so well. This place never gave a damn about all the competition in town, you know, that was always their philosophy. It just did its own thing. And I think, in a way, maybe that's why it's still here, when so many other places closed down. Because it transcends time, marches to its own beat. It's so full of life; it's almost an assault on the senses. You can be anything you wanted in here and that…that felt so freeing. So maybe that's why, whenever I'm here and I smell the familiar smells and hear the familiar sounds I can just, see it all in my mind's eye, even though I'm now blind."

She ended in a whisper, her hair flying gloriously in the soft wind, her lashes long as she blinked at him with unseeing eyes.

Jackson stared at her in awe. He was pretty sure he had never met a more fascinating creature than April Kepner. He walked towards her and reclaimed her hand.

"It is." He said

"What?" she asked, head tilted to the side, looking adorably inquisitive, having long forgotten her earlier question, to which he had just now provided her with an answer.

"Beautiful." He was looking directly at her. She had no way of knowing it, yet he could've sworn he saw a faint blush gracing her cheeks.

They were suddenly interrupted by a waiter, who had managed to slip up to them unnoticed, telling them that their table was ready.

He hadn't even known they asked for a table.

April smiled at the direction of the waiter, whom she addressed as Gary, having recognized his voice, and thanked him graciously.

A few minutes later, they were seated at their table, a candle between them, and she was smiling as Gary took their orders. Jackson started to talk, wanting to ask her about…well, he didn't know where to start. As soon as he thought he was close to unraveling the layers of her mystery, she seemed to surprise him with even more layers.

"I don't want to talk."

She said simply.

"I'm sorry?"

"About my family. I know you want to ask. I just…I don't want to talk, not today. Please?"

It was hard to say no to those doe-like eyes, and it wasn't long till he was relenting.

"Tell me what you see. The people…describe them to me…" she said suddenly, her eyes glowing in the candle light as she stared in front of her, her gaze hungry for sight. His heart squeezed.

He started commenting on the guests as their food arrived, exaggerating their quirks and habits, drawing delightful little giggles from her, and he couldn't help but chuckle at her amusement.

He was looking around, trying to pick another guest to comment on when he suddenly spotted a man that looked suspiciously like Matthew. He narrowed his eyes, watching closely, as the man in question hunched down in his seat, looking like he was trying to make himself smaller. He shook his head, wondering to himself why the heck Matthew would be there when he suddenly, surely, caught sight of his companion, recognizing her immediately. Well, well, well. He thought. Dr. Jo Wilson, the brunette April frequented the bar with, and Karev's on again off again love interest.

"Well, I'll be damned." He muttered to himself, watching as the brunette all of a sudden spotted his narrow gaze, got spooked, and tried to hide behind the menu she was holding.

"What?" April asked, having heard his quiet murmur.

"I didn't know you had asked your friend to be on surveillance duty, I mean I completely understand – I wouldn't trust me either…not when I can't even see who I'm going out with-"

"Jo?" April squeaked, interrupting him.

"Jo's here?!"

"Er…"

"Is she?" She demanded.

"Yes, well – she's here with my friend, Matthew. I just assumed you had asked her to come, although I have no idea what she's doing with Matthew-"

"That little sneak." April muttered to herself."He must be the guy she said was cute in the bar the other day."

Jackson raised his eyebrows. He had no idea she and Jo had gossiped about him and Matthew. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, the two women seemed close after all, and Jo must have seen him hang around with Matthew numerous times at the bar.

He was about to ask whether April really had asked Jo to come along, or whether she was just here spying on them, when she interrupted him and sweetly asked him if he could get the attention of a waiter.

He raised an eyebrow and acquiesced, wondering where this was all going, and a waiter appeared at their table within seconds. Jackson watched as April whispered conspiratorially to the waiter for around 5 minutes until finally the waiter left, looking amused.

April turned back to him, a self satisfied look on her face, as he asked her what in the world was going on.

"You'll see." Was all she would say.

About 15 minutes later, he saw the same waiter came out with a small cake which he proceeded to set down on Matthew and Jo's table, making sure to warmly congratulate the two of them on their recent engagement, raising his voice just enough for all the other guests to hear.

Things started clicking in Jackson's head and he began to grin, seeing the shocked looks on both Jo and Matthew's faces.

"I like how you work." He said, leaning close to April, his eyes twinkling, and she beamed.

"Yeah well, serves them right for spying on us." She said as all the other guests started clapping, urging the "couple" to seal their engagement with a kiss.

April gave a bark of laughter upon hearing this and Jackson grinned.

There were a few moments of silence and then another burst of applause.

"Did they kiss?" April asked eagerly, tilting her head towards the sound of people cheering, looking like a little girl who had just been offered candy.

Jackson grinned wider, looking on as Dr. Jo Wilson ended what had looked to be a searing kiss with Matthew, who came away with a glazed look on his face.

"Yeah. Well, _she _kissed. And by the looks of it, she did not hold back. Matthew, I'm assuming just got thoroughly frenched and now he's looking like Christmas came early."

April giggled, and Jackson held himself back from dropping a kiss onto a rosy cheek with some difficulty.

"Damn. I may have actually set her up with him. This could actually work!"

She said excitedly.

Jackson laughed, wondering what she would think if she found out that Matthew was actually interested in April just as much as Jackson was - although he did not know if this current turn of events with Jo changed anything.

"Oh! Incoming!" Jackson said quickly as he spotted Jo walked towards them with a purposeful look on her face, Matthew trailing sheepishly behind.

"April Kepner." Jo said as she approached them, puffing out her chest pompously.

"Jo Wilson." April parroted, a perfect imitation of Jo, looking straight ahead of her, lips twitching.

"Oh you look at me, April Kepner, you may be blind but you have _mastered _the art of locating someone by the sound of their voice so you aren't fooling me by that act!"

April turned, her face pointed squarely at Jo, and Jackson watched in admiration as she quirked an eyebrow at the other woman.

"You are aware," she said primly, "that wanting me to look at you is an exercise in futility, seeing as, oh you know, I can't _see?"_

"Yeah, yeah, boo-hoo, don't expect me to feel sorry for you after that stunt you just pulled off." Jo huffed.

"Well from what I can gather from Jackson, you just got to play extreme tonsil hockey with a hunk, so I'm not sure why you aren't worshipping me right now."

Jo sputtered. So did Matthew.

"I-I'm dating Karev!"

April scoffed, and Jackson barely held back a bark of laughter at her next response, mostly because this past week, he himself had had the pleasure of acquainting himself with the questionably sunny nature of Dr. Alex Karev.

_"Please. _Karev acts like he's going through male PMS 24/7 –"

"Karev is not going through male PMS." Jo said through clenched teeth.

"Oh I beg to differ." Came the quick response.

"Jackson's met him, actually, and he's been very nice to him, hasn't he, Jackson?" Jackson started as the brunette acknowledged his presence for the first time since she came to talk to April, voice faltering as she realized halfway through her sentence that there was no way Jackson was going to side with her.

"Oh he's a real delight. "He said, making sure his tone was extra dry and sarcastic.

Jo's eyes flashed, and April laughed as Jackson chuckled at her mirth.

"I'm gonna go get myself a drink." Matthew spoke up, startling them all, and April spoke up saying she wouldn't mind a drink either.

After politely inquiring what Jackson and Jo would like as a beverage, Matthew asked April if she wanted to accompany him to the bar to get all their drinks. She agreed easily thinking nothing of it, and Jackson's jaw tightened in displeasure. He watched as the duo walked away, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Meanwhile, Jo sat down on April's seat and scrutinized Jackson, eyes narrowed. She then sighed loudly, and Jackson raised an eyebrow,

"You have a question Dr. Wilson?" he asked evenly.

"You can't date her." She said bluntly.

"Excuse me?"

Jo opened her mouth to respond, and this time, Jackson saw something akin to fear in her eyes.

"Please, you have to stop. She hasn't been like this except for short periods of time since before the accident and it's never turned out good. So you have to stop!"

"Look, I don't get it, you just said it yourself. You haven't seen her like this since before the accident. Which, I admit, she hasn't really told me much about except that it was a plane crash –"

"She told you it was the plane crash." Jo made it a statement, not a question.

I- yes. Ok? But not much-"

"I wish that was the only accident." Jo muttered darkly, not meeting Jackson's eyes, and his heart started thumping loudly in his chest.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, suddenly, irrationally, feeling scared.

Jo didn't answer his question, instead choosing to say:

"Look, this isn't forever, ok? This is temporary. What she's like today, it's short lived, trust me I know. This is the her she wanted you to see. I know why she picked this place. Because it's the only place she feels like the old her. Then she goes into the real world and the magic of this place falls away, and it leaves her broken, a shell, and it makes it worse. April doesn't need a reminder of the past, of what she had. That's what you remind her of. She needs someone safe, stable, total 180 from the past. She needs..."

"Matthew." Jackson said grimly. "You would rather she dated someone like Matthew."

Jo looked guilty.

"Yes."

**Wanted to thank everyone for the reviews! I'm just letting this story take me where it takes me, but I hope everyone is liking it so far! Please let me know what you think! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so...this chapter was stupid hard to write :/ and I still don't think it turned out okay. I have to warn you though: April's gone through some fairly serious stuff (which I wanted to write a certain way but I'm just not pleased with it, but I just don't have the energy to re-edit it so…*sad face*), so she's not making the best decisions right now. Please don't hate her. **

April felt guilty. After her date with Jackson, she hadn't answered any of his calls, or replied to any of his texts. She had purposely avoided going to the bar just so she wouldn't run into him, and…

She had gone on three dates already with Matthew.

Which was what ate at her more than anything else. She wasn't even in a relationship with Jackson but it felt like she was cheating on him. She had only had one date with him, but she felt that going out with Matthew was wrong. In retrospect, Jackson should not have had this strong an effect on her. One date should just be a blip on her radar, insignificant compared to the dates she had gone on with her previous long term relationships – granted there had only been one in her life. But that one night with Jackson kept streaking through her mind like a blazing fire time and time again, and she was helpless to stop it.

She should have let Jackson know. Instead, she had told Matthew not to tell Jackson about any of the dates she had had with him. It was chipping away at her, but…in a strange way, she welcomed the guilt. She couldn't explain it, but having something raw and acidic eating away at her almost made her feel better about herself.

But _Jackson_ didn't deserve any of this. And she was turning Matthew into a liar. Matthew had told her, looking uncomfortable and uneasy every time, that Jackson kept asking him whether he had seen her, and each time she had asked him to lie, to say no. Matthew was a sweetheart. He didn't like it, but she had pleaded with him, knowing that turning up the doe eyed look at him would work. And it had.

She _was_ enjoying Matthew's company. Not quite in the way she had enjoyed Jackson's, the two men were different after all. With Jackson she had felt…carefree. Matthew was…he was safe, never strayed away from the beaten path. At a time when April felt wild and unpredictable, he brought her back to the straight and narrow. Any time she was away from Matthew, she felt on edge again.

Because Jackson…she was afraid what being with Jackson would bring out in her, afraid of descending into the madness of…of _feeling_ again. And April wasn't interested in feeling…at least not the things Jackson would make her feel. Being around Jackson was like an exhilarating joy ride, it had a rebelling, hair-flying-in-the-wind, devil-may-care- quality to it that had drawn April in like a moth to a flame. And it was dangerous. Matthew was more of a bicycle ride through country scenery, peaceful, steady, and undisturbed; she just went through the motions with him.

And that felt perfectly safe.

* * *

April huffed in frustration, waiting for Jo to come home so she could help her with her makeup. She was about to go on her fourth date with Matthew. Jo had been there the previous three times to help do her make up, and had promised her that she would make it home in time this time around as well.

April used her phone's voice app to check the time and realized in mild panic that Jo was running late. She tried calling her, but after getting her voice mail for the third time, decided there was nothing else to do but to try her hand at doing her own make up.

Jo had once dragged a protesting April to a centre where a makeup lady who was blind herself had shown April how to do make up without actually having to see. April had dismissed the idea almost immediately, only listening half heartedly to the lady just to humor Jo, whose optimism about her blindness seemed to be going on a negatively correlated path in relation to April's constant pessimism. But right now, having no other option, she was willing to try it.

* * *

April jammed the mascara brush back into its bottle in frustration, knowing she must look like a clown by now.

She had had minimal trouble with foundation and blush; for the blush, the lady had told her remember the number of strokes she made on one cheek, and do the same for the other. But once she got to the eye makeup, she had started to get overwhelmed and all the self pity she usually kept bottled inside had come crashing down on her.

She hated this, she hated feeling like an invalid half the time, hated having to ask for help, and most of all, she hated feeling this needy. She shouldn't need to ask for help just to do something that was as basic as makeup, dammit, but that's what her blindness did to her. Made her helpless.

Angry tears fell from her eyes and she dabbed at them, then gave in and let them fall. Letting their wetness mar her makeup as much as possible, she sat in her world of darkness, hating herself.

After what felt like an eternity of wallowing in self loathing, she finally threw fresh water on her face, washing off the rest of the makeup, then took a deep breath and decided to just stick with light foundation and some lip gloss.

No sooner had she finished applying it than the doorbell was ringing, signaling the arrival of Matthew.

* * *

After a lovely dinner filled with engaging conversation, April had dragged a protesting Matthew to Jo's for some light drinks.

She wasn't exactly sure when things started to take a turn for the worse, but somewhere between the drinks and the dancing, things had started to fall apart.

Matthew had been against coming to Joe's from the get go, in case they ran into Jackson. But it was almost as if something dark inside April had wanted Jackson to find out. She'd be lying if she said that _hadn't _occurred to her when she had persuaded Matthew to come with her to the bar. She'd be lying if she said that somewhere deep inside her, she hadn't hoped for Jackson to walk in through the doors and see her and Matthew kissing. But then again, April lied to herself on a frequent basis these days, so what did it really matter. She was blind, she couldn't see, so there was no way of her knowing when exactly Jackson would step inside those doors, but somehow, through some sort of ironic cosmic manipulation, Jackson had indeed stepped into the bar the exact moment April had decided to kiss Matthew.

And things had dissolved into unbelievable chaos.

All of a sudden Matthew was somehow yanked away from her, her world was filled with startled shouts and mad scrambles, and she was being jostled about by complete strangers. She began to panic, feeling as though the walls were closing in on her, the pitch black darkness inside her head becoming too much as she groped around for something to anchor herself to. And then she heard him. Jackson, yelling at Matthew, calling him a liar; she heard a few punches landing on someone, a few glasses breaking, tables and chairs crashing to the floor, until she couldn't take it anymore and she was shouting to make herself heard, half sobbing, tears springing to her eyes.

"Stop it! Stop it, _please_! I -it was me – Jackson! I- it was me, I told him to lie, please, please stop – whatever you're doing please – please- "

She felt two gentle hands on her arms then, as Jo's voice filled her ears, soothing, calming her down.

"J-Jo?" her own voice wavered.

"Shh it's okay, alright? It's ok, I'm gonna take you home now…"

"B-but Jackson- Matthew-"

"They're fine." Jo shot a warning glance at the two men, who were now standing in the middle of the bar, disheveled, bruises on their faces and cuts on their lips, while people all around them threw them dirty looks. Joe the barkeeper hadn't been there today, otherwise, both Matthew and Jackson's asses would have been flung out the door the minute the first punch had landed.

"Why?" Came Jackson's strangled voice just as Jo guided April towards the door, an arm flung protectively around her shoulder. Jo scowled at Jackson, but he waited, willing April to speak, desperate for an answer.

"I'm sorry." April whispered, turning around. And for the first time, she couldn't figure out where to focus her eyes, staring helplessly at a spot nowhere near Jackson.

He closed his eyes then, shutting her lovely face from view, not willing to associate the feeling of betrayal that swept his soul with this…this angel standing in front of him. The angel who, in his eyes, had undeniably fallen from grace the moment she had admitted to lying to him.

He had nevertheless fallen for _her_, and that was a truth he could not run away from.

* * *

Jo had taken a limp April home, who had dissolved into tears the moment she had stepped inside the apartment they shared, collapsing into a small pile on the side of her bed, great big sobs wracking her whole body as she let her grief overtake her.

"I'm a h-horrible person." April's big wet pools of hazel stared helplessly at Jo as she clutched her knees to her chest. "I-I knew I was doing something wrong, and yet I didn't-"

"I thought you must have already told Jackson before you started going out with Matthew, Apes." Jo murmured sadly. "If you had only told me, I'd have made you do it…"

"I knowwww…that- that's why, I – I think that's why I didn't tell you." Bawled a distraught April. "I'm evil." She hiccupped. "Jackson's…he's…he doesn't deserve this…why am I like this, Jo? I never used to be like this-" she whispered, her eyes wide and wet, looking like a small child.

"April- "

"I want to go back." April rocked from side to side as she started sobbing again. "I want to go back to before the plane crash, to before the fire - to b-b-before it all happened…I want to go back, I want my life back, I want _myself _back!" her voice got louder and louder until she ended her sentence shouting angrily at the world. Her eyes bled grieving tears and her heart, lub-dubbing away inside a body that wished it stopped beating almost daily, reminding her of a life she didn't want to have anymore, wrapped itself tighter around her neck, never letting go.

She looked up then, suddenly calm, eerily quiet.

"I wish I was dead."

People throw that phrase around like it carried no weight. Flippantly tossing it into the wind, trying to be witty, but Jo had never heard anything more terrifying come out of her friend's mouth.

"No you don't." Jo whispered. She didn't let her fear show, pushed it down, afraid her worst nightmares might start coming true.

"Yes I do." April laughed bitterly. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "Oh God I hope she doesn't try to kill herself, I don't want to be the one to come home to her with her wrists slit open."

Jo's sudden intake of breath, no matter how quiet she tried to keep it, echoed around the room.

"But you don't have to worry about that, 'cuz you know what's ironic Jo?" April swiped at the stream of tears that were falling down effortlessly from her eyes. "I'm a survivor – and that…sometimes I think that's the saddest thing of all. I've sinned too much Jo, I don't deserve to die, _didn't_ deserve to die _with_ them. Any of them. They died without me… life is my punishment." She said brokenly.

"Oh April-"

"A-and Mikey- I see his small face all the time. All the time in my dreams." She whispered, eyes looking glassy, the trauma of it all consuming her, swallowing her whole.

Jo sank down next to her friend, who started sobbing harder, wrapping her arms around her, feeling helpless. "You're gonna get through this, you hear me? You will. You deserve happiness, more than anyone else I know, and you have to stop blaming yourself. None of what happened with the fire, or Mikey- was your fault. You need to believe that. And you need to talk to Joe, he's miserable…April, he needs you-"

"No." Came the stubborn reply. "No, I killed the only son he ever had. I know he's trying to tell me it's not my fault, but that's who Joe is. He's too kind-"

April's face crumbled.

"He-he's too k-kind-he's always been too kind-he t-took me in, took care of me a-and I k-killled-"

"_April_-"

"Just…I want to go to bed now okay?" She whispered.

Jo swallowed.

"Maybe I should stay here… keep you company."

April blinked, giving Jo a wobbly smile.

"You would do that?" She sniffed.

"Of course."

"You're the best Jo Wilson."

Jo gave a half smile.

"You're better. Trust me. You just need to believe it."

** So...yeah. What did you think? Please leave a review! (good or bad, lol I don't mind)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi all, here's the next chapter. I'm sorry it took so long to update, but I started a new job and it doesn't give me much time to ****_not _****be exhausted :S So updates are probably going to be irregular from now on, but I haven't given up on this or The Tempest of the Hearts. **

She will promise you more than the Garden of Eden

Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleedin'

But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be

Blame it all on yourself

Cause she's always a woman to me

The same song. The one that played just before he asked her out, was ironically playing the day he decided to ask her for an explanation.

"Reminds me of you." He said, unable to keep the bitterness seeping into his voice. Her reaction was imperceptible; deceivingly so, much like her. She barely moved her head, registering no surprise, signaling to him that she had felt his presence the moment he had sat down next to her.

"She will promise you more than the Garden of Eden, then she'll cut you…and laugh while you're bleeding." He quoted the lyric to her, needing to see her flinch, recoil, give him a tell tale betrayal of her inner self, but and she merely turned her head towards him, eyes suddenly fierce.

"I didn't promise you anything, Jackson."

Her voice was gentle, in direct contrast to her gaze, and he swallowed.

"And I never laughed."

Her eyes were sincere, imploring, suspiciously wet.

She took a deep breath before continuing.

"I'm sorry. Sorry I made you feel that way. I- I didn't mean to – to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Another beat.

"Hurting is…it's the last thing I would want for anyone. Trust me." She said softly, and for a fleeting moment, just for a second, in that darkened bar, it was as if someone shone a flood light directly on April Kepner, just for his benefit. Her words seemed like dead weight, dragging down her body, and she clutched the glass she held in her hand as if it was a lifeline. She looked unbelievably, exquisitely, unimaginably weary with the world, just for that one small moment, and then the flood light was gone, and her impenetrable façade was back up.

"I know you didn't promise me anything." He said softly, acknowledging the truth in her words. "It's just that, that day, when we had dinner, when you took me to the rooftop, when we danced, it felt like…"

"Yeah…I know. It's the magic of the Sin Tiempo. I shouldn't have taken you there." She whispered.

Because the Sin Tiempo, where everything was timeless and eternal, where nothing was marred by the cruel march of time, was ironically, where she went to find her past. It was where she went to _be_ her past. Too often than not, she felt like she was lit up on the insides, like a flaming torchlight, split right down the middle. Only the two halves never separated, they stayed bound together. One stuck in the past, one trying to run from the present. But that light in her insides was constantly seeping out through the cracks in her skin, and every so often she went into the Sin Tiempo to get a refill. The Sin Tiempo made her feel whole, it was a mammoth building filled with the wonder of all things that once _used to be_. And every time she left, the light started seeping out of her faster than before, and she needed to go in more often to get her fill.

It was her medication, her addiction, her solace and her haven. But she didn't know whether it was doing her more harm than good. Maybe she shouldn't be visiting her past so often.

But maybe she should.

Maybe that was the solution.

"I'm glad you did." He said, all the bitterness having left him suddenly, all the anger gone, leaving only that familiar yearning to get to know her again. He knew that after that night, she had cut herself off from both him and Matthew. Things were still incredibly tense between the paramedic and him, but Matthew had at least been honest with him about his current ties to the red-head. He knew the man still had feelings for April, God knows they both did, but Matthew had stopped coming to the bar while Jackson hadn't. He had seen her every day there for two weeks now, had glanced at her every now and then while nursing his broken heart, coming to expect her at 8 o'clock sharp every night. She would come in with Jo, and leave with her, and every single time, she sat alone, seemed to almost _want _to be alone, shaking her head no to her friend's obvious attempts to coax her to join her.

And tonight, he had finally made the move from his spot at the far end of the bar to sit next to her, to maybe get some closure, or maybe start something he had no business starting up again.

But April now looked uneasy, like a deer caught in headlights, looking for an escape route.

"Do you see Jo around?" she asked tentatively.

Jackson looked around, spotting the brunette busily making out with Karev in a darkened corner of the bar.

"Yeah…she's uh, otherwise engaged…with Karev." He said, raising his eyebrows meaningfully, realizing the futility of the visual gesture too late.

But April seemed to have had no trouble grasping the meaning, and was already fishing around in her purse, feeling around for something.

"Okay I just…I'll just call a cab then, I think I should go home now…"

"I'll drive you." The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think about it, and he was quite vaguely aware that he couldn't have stopped himself from saying it if he'd tried.

There followed a silence, loud and heavy with both their thoughts intermingling invisibly in the air between them, his chasing hers as they tried to get away.

"No…no that's okay." she said, hurriedly stepping down from her bar stool, hands reaching out to grasp the bar, but he took her hands in his to steady her, squeezing them in determination.

"April there's no way I can watch you take a cab, alright- you can't see, he could take advantage of –"

"I have a cab guy!" She said rather indignantly. "Whom I trust with my life, thank you very much –"

"Let me drive you home. Please." He interrupted her. Then decided there's no shame at all in guilting her into it. "Come on, It's the least you could do after…after everything." He finished hopefully.

It worked.

Her gaze lowered in guilty compliance, but she didn't say a word. "Come on." He said softly, letting go of one hand and tugging gently at the other. She slowly started to shuffle forwards half heartedly, and he stopped, looking at her in amusement.

"Put some heart into it Kepner." He ordered, his voice laced in dry humor, and her lips twitched.

Although he kept his eyes planted deliberately in front of him, he could feel Jo's unblinking gaze on them as he led April out of the bar.

* * *

"Your car has that new-car smell."

Was the first thing she said as soon as they got in, and he grimaced, embarrassed. "Yes, well…gift from my mother." He usually went out of his way to reject anything and everything his mother did that was over the top and elaborate, but this car had been one thing he hadn't been able to say no to. It purred like a cat and was a dream to drive. And he had to give it to his mother, she knew his weak spots well.

April bent her head, fingering her seat belt, lost in thought. "Must be nice, being an Avery. All things new and shiny."

"Not…all the time…" he said slowly, glancing at her, unable to figure out where she was going with it. But if Jackson thought she was going to elaborate, he was wrong. As far as complete sentences went, this was pretty much her sole contribution the whole drive. She murmured monosyllabic answers to his probing questions from time to time, seemingly lost in her own little world. After awhile he left her to her own devises, periodically asking for the directions to her apartment but otherwise leaving her to her own thoughts, sensing that she didn't want to talk.

He parked the car outside the apartment she shared with Jo, increasingly becoming aware of her presence, even more so than he had during the ride. It had started to rain along the way, and the thin veins of water dribbling slowly down his windows now sheltered them from the outside world, bringing an intimacy that was otherwise absent during the mostly silent car ride. Her hands were laced together in her lap, she was staring straight ahead, but he felt her nervousness around him which made him frustrated. This was a complete turnabout to how she had behaved with him when she had taken him to the Sin Tiempo. He could feel her holding back, keeping her distance, busily building walls around herself. And he knew that if it wasn't for the fact that she's blind and needed help getting out of the car, she would have already bolted by now.

He threw caution to the wind and reached out, taking her hand in his, grasping her slender fingers and squeezing them lightly. She drew in a startled breath, but he kept pushing.

"What do you see, April?" He asked quietly.

She took a pause to answer.

"Is that a trick question?"

His mouth tilted to one side charmingly, alas to no one's benefit, seeing as the one audience he had was a blind one.

"I mean when you picture me, in your head. What do you see?"

He was curious. April only knew him by his voice. She hadn't asked him what he looked like, can't see a single expression on his face, can only gauge his emotions from the depths of his tone. And every time she stared at him with those incredibly perceptive eyes of hers, he couldn't help but wonder…what did she really see?

She hesitated, frowning mildly, then turned towards him and gently reached up with her hands, searching for his face. He held his breath, feeling as if one wrong whiff could destroy the fragility of the moment, and kept his eyes wide open as her own quietly closed. Her hands softly traced his jaw line, forehead, the line of his nose, finally coming to his eyes. They closed almost unconsciously, and his lashes fluttered as she gently swept their outline with her thumbs, her palms grazing his cheeks.

"Say something." She said.

His eyes fluttered open and he gazed at her in confusion, eyes still cloudy, emotions brimming on the surface. He hadn't anticipated her touching his face to be so intimate, but it had caught him by surprise, making him momentarily speechless.

"What…" He asked huskily, and she ran the backs of her fingers over his Adam's apple as he said the words, making him swallow thickly in response. Her thumb touched his lips then, gently pressing against them, and he lost all control. Puckering his lips, he kissed the fleshy middle part of her thumb as if he was kissing a flower, and they both sucked in their breaths. She opened her eyes then, looking startled, heated want glimmering in them before she quickly composed herself, her hands falling primly into her lap again. The moment wavered like a bubble that was left to levitate far too long in the air, and finally burst.

"Well?" He asked, needing to clear his throat a couple of times before he was properly able to speak.

"They tell me your eyes are green." She said softly.

"Green or blue, depending on the light." He said huskily. He may be modest, but he was a man, after all, on a quest to impress a woman, and he wasn't immune to vanity.

She gave an almost imperceptible smile. "You have a defined jaw line, high forehead, prominent cheekbones, and your eyes are shaped like a cat's. Needless to say, you must be incredibly good looking in real life."

"And my lips? You didn't say anything about my lips…" He didn't know what came over him. He wasn't trying to be suggestive, or maybe he was, okay, he definitely was, but he needed more out of her, dammit. He knew she was attracted to him. He had seen the heat in her eyes, and they both felt the pull between them, but he wanted her to be at least a little transparent about it, rather than pretending to deny its existence.

"I…" she started to say, then stopped. Usually she wasn't this dense and would have caught on much earlier, but he was spinning webs around her and she wasn't even putting up a fight.

"What exactly are you doing Jackson?" she asked frankly, deciding to be direct.

He stared at her for a moment, caught off guard. "April…" he hated that his voice broke, but just one kiss…he wanted to ask for just one kiss.

"April…" He tried again."I just…just one kiss. Can I have a kiss?" His voice had gone husky with want again, and he didn't miss the little tremble that passed through her body.

Oh Lord, he was good. Most guys didn't ask for a kiss. They took it. Somehow, the fact that he was asking made her want to give it without any objection whatsoever. Being in such close quarters with him was doing something to her. Even though she had now done it to countless others when she wanted to get a good gauge of what they looked like, touching his face shouldn't have felt like…like she was touching forbidden fruit. She had felt long lost desires awaken deep inside her, as if she was touching him in the most intimate of places, and she had felt him holding his breath, just as she had held hers.

She felt herself leaning into him, and that's all it took. He captured her lips in his so gently she almost broke. She shouldn't have parted her lips, but she did, shouldn't have let her tongue tangle with his, but she did, shouldn't have let it go on for longer than two seconds, but it did. This must be what ambrosia tastes like, she thought. So good, no mortal should ever be allowed to dip their tongue in for a taste. But she had, and now she wanted to drown in it.

She pulled away too late, feeling a familiar ache start simmering in the pit of her stomach, and Jackson opened his eyes, unable to tear himself away from the sight of her lips, looking swollen and rosy after their little encounter. He felt a rush of satisfaction in knowing that he was the reason she looked so damn kissable right now.

He was brought out of his lust ridden stupor by the sight of her pale hands urgently groping around for the door handle, and sighed in defeat. "I'll come around, okay? I swear I'm not trying to kidnap you. Just…just stay there, until I come around."

She had already found the door handle and stepped out of the car in stubborn rebellion when he got around to her, and he gave up trying to argue. April Kepner might be blind, but she saw things through her way. The cool rain drops that drizzled from the sky felt soothing against his skin, and he saw her visibly relax next to him, now that they were free from the intimate confines of his car. She surprised him by slowly taking his arm, fingers clasping around his bicep, letting him guide her through the rain to the stairs that led up to her apartment. She stopped him before he could lead her up the stairs, telling him quietly that she can take it from there.

He stepped back, not wanting to overcrowd her, respecting her wishes.

"Thanks for the ride, Jackson." She said softly before she started her ascent up the stairs, holding on carefully to the railing. He watched her go, a worried frown marring his brows as he watched each step she took like a hawk, not wanting her to slip and fall.

"You deserve new and shiny."

She said suddenly, turning around, halfway up the steps, shivering slightly in the chilly night air coupled with the rain, arms coming to wrap themselves around herself protectively. If his face was a clear lake, his feelings for the red head were as reflective as its waters. Its waves crashed unexpectedly to shore every time she caught him off guard; he made no attempt to hide them, and she was too blind to notice.

Literally. Ironically.

No one denied that the universe had a vastly ironical sense of humor, but April Kepner had been unfairly blessed with a disproportionate amount of its bounty.

Where others saw and almost instantly fell hard for Jackson's chiseled jaw, green eyed gaze and incredible physique, April, quite simply put, couldn't. Maybe that explained away his fascination with her, but only partly. The fact that she could not see for herself the pain and loss carved into her every feature only magnified it to the rest of the world, and his need to soothe it all away drew him in like a man starved for food and water.

"What?" He asked, frowning.

"You. You deserve new and shiny. Avery things. Like your car. New and shiny." She said again, as if that explained it all. And maybe it did, to her, in her tortured world void of the people she called her family.

"Not broken and beyond repair."

She said that last sentence softly, almost afraid of him hearing her, and things suddenly clicked into place.

He took the steps two at a time and she was suddenly lost in a dark embrace, a kiss falling lightly in her hair. She pushed at him, suddenly afraid, not wanting to feel. _No no no_. She didn't want the exhilarating joy ride, she didn't want the hair-flying-in-the-wind, devil-may-care- rebellion of feelings. She couldn't _afford_ to have that. She felt too much, had already _felt_ more than her fair share for one lifetime and going that deep into the rabbit-hole again meant she might not survive the fall this time. Jackson Avery was her kryptonite, and she needed to get away from his allegedly green eyed rays.

She kept pushing until his arms fell in defeat at his sides, exasperated.

"You have it all twisted, you know that, April?" He asked so that only she could hear, and she blinked those big eyes of hers, staring blindly at his chest.

"New and shiny, Jackson." She said again, and he wondered if she was trying to anger him. She turned around to go back up the stairs and he smoothly slipped his hand into hers before she could protest, his grip determinedly telling her that he wasn't letting go. April tugged at her hand, her mouth twisting into a stubborn pout, but he gently smoothed his thumb over her skin as he guided her up the stairs, his heart feeling soft and squishy inside his chest as he watched her concentrate hard on not tripping over her feet, feeling carefully for each step.

"I'm coming by tomorrow too. I'll see you then." He said forcefully, eyes boring into hers, daring her telepathically to tell him not to come. The red head in question opened her mouth, frowning.

"Well then, I'll just have to make sure I don't run into you, don't I?" she said primly, eyes flashing. He sensed that she was angry, partially because he was willfully ignoring what she had been trying so hard to get across to him all this time, and partially because he had of course, gone against her wishes and helped her up the stairs. Well then, she'd just have to get used to it, because this was just the beginning.

He had sworn off her once, when it felt like she betrayed him with one of his best friends, but things were suddenly starting to make sense to him, the reason she kept holding herself back, the reason she had perhaps subconsciously, ruined a good thing between them once…but he'd be damned if she could keep him away now.

* * *

_She was running, running, as fast as she could, and the screaming never stopped. It went on and on, echoing, and the echoes echoing against each other until her ears were filled with it. It sounded desperate, wild, whoever making it was terrified beyond sanity. And then she saw them: her parents, her sisters, their faces calling out to her, arms beckoning, telling her to come with them , come with them. And she couldn't run fast enough, couldn't catch up, the more she kept running towards them, the more they seemed to move away from her. Why couldn't she reach them, why wasn't she with them, and why…why did their faces suddenly appear blurry, like a…a fragile reflection in waters that were suddenly disturbed?_

_"No" she gasped, "no no no..."_

_And then suddenly, she was burning up. A moan escaped her, her head throbbed, tears swelled in her eyes…. and then a huge and terrible force had her pinned on a table, staring up at a sky full of smoke penetrated by flaming orange. She wanted her parents, her sisters, needed them, her heart sobbed for them. Where were they? What was happening to her?_

_And then…a small voice. "Auntie April?"_

_"__Mikey!" she gasped, struggling against the huge force pinning her on the table. "Mikey! No! I'm coming!"_

_But she never could reach him. Because suddenly, she was being lifted up into that sky full of smoke, of burning orange, of burning flames. Mikey's small voice, chanting "Auntie April, Auntie April" echoed all around her until she wished her ears were bleeding, deafening her forever. She was making hoarse moaning noises and the glowing flames burned into her eyes, but she kept staring at them, the pain registering vaguely in her brain. And then the flames were upon her, searing her skin, scorching her so she couldn't think anymore, until she heard a dull thud combined with an incredibly sharp pain behind her eyes, her vision of thick white smoke penetrated by orange all of a sudden being replaced by pitch back - like the shutter of a camera suddenly closing up._

She woke up gasping; gulping for fresh air, then immediately closed her eyes, squeezing them shut tightly.

Always the same dream.

It didn't matter that her parents and sisters died in a plane crash – a plane they had been on to come visit her at uncle Joe's, whom she had been staying with once she had been accepted to Seattle Grace Mercy West's internship program. It didn't matter that she had never physically seen the crash. It didn't matter, because her cruel mind still conjured up nightmares for her that were surprisingly life like and realistic, until she woke up with tears streaming down her face, her chest heaving with sobs. And it didn't end there. Her nightmares almost always combined her family's tragedy with little Mikey's, mocking April's heart and soul and cackling evilly at her pain.

Uncle Joe, who had never had any kids of his own, and had always spoiled April and her sisters like they were his own daughters, had adopted little Mikey after April had decided to move out during her second residency year. Mikey had been nine years old when uncle Joe had adopted him, and his curiously innate ability to understand and show compassion for human emotion, perhaps as a result of his own experiences in foster care, had endeared him to April almost immediately. After the crushing pain of losing her family, April had been numb, closing herself off from the rest of the world, going through the motions at the hospital, taking comfort in the tediously structured life of a resident. The only person she had let in had been her uncle, allowing him to comfort her as best as he could, if only because she had sensed in him, as a kindred spirit would, his own pain: that of an uncle not knowing how to help a child he considered his own, in her time of need.

Because tragically, tragedy has a way of opening you up and sensitizing you to every kind of worldly pain; your once opaque skin is suddenly as sheer and translucent as a bride's thin veil, a sponge, drinking in the pain and suffering of those around you. Over time, that exquisite vulnerability to the pain of everyone else transforms into an almost selfish need to ease them from that pain. To call it selfless would be a downright lie. To call it self-preservation would be the guilt ridden truth. It was in this state that April was first introduced to Mikey, and the little boy had immediately stolen his way into her heart, warming her up with his childish laughter, the way he softly touched her cheek whenever her eyes misted up with the memories of her family, the way he always seemed to know her sadness, never failing to comfort her. He was her mirror into a more innocent world, a world free of the pain and anguish she had already been subjected to, which made her all the more determined to shield him from its undeniable cruelty.

Except she had never thought she would be the cause of it.

She remembered taking his hand and running around the halls of the Sin Tiempo, just as she had with her sisters when they were little, playing tricks on the waiters, giggling conspiratorially, climbing the stairs to the rooftop with stolen food from the kitchen, indulging in secret midnight feasts. She remembered showing him the Seattle skyline for the first time from the roof top, how his face opened up to all the beauty there was in the world, and in that exact moment, striking fear in her heart that one day, he might have to face all the ugliness as well.

But that day, when uncle Joe had left him in her care, when she had stepped out for a moment to grab some tampons from the store, she had never thought she would come back to a burning house, with little Mikey trapped inside. Unlce Joe had forgotten to shut off the stove in the basement before he went out to the bar; she had never noticed it before she stepped out, but Mikey must have gone down to investigate, and…he had never made it back upstairs. She let herself picture his last moments in her head, wanting to feel the pain, needing to suffer as much as she had made him suffer, because this was her fault. This was her guilt. This was her burden. That sweet innocent face, the face that crumpled up whenever he saw her sad, she would never get to see again. Those trusting hands that never let go of her own when she would run around with him in the Sin Tiempo…she would never hold them again. April, upon returning to the house, had run into the flames, fighting off firefighters, lost to the chaos around her, only one thing on her mind. She had made it halfway down the stairs before the smoke had engulfed her, choking her, clogging her throat, strangling her lungs, the incredible heat piercing through to her skin. Unable to breathe, she had collapsed on the stairs, hitting her head on a jagged edge. The last thing she remembered seeing before she had lost consciousness remained the last thing she would _ever _see. Thick white smoke penetrated by flaming orange - which would also, always be the sole ending to her never ending nightmares.

She never regained her vision. A punishment she accepted almost gratefully, almost vengefully. This suffering of hers felt trivial and paltry compared to the suffering she had inflicted upon Mike. And these nightmares of hers she welcomed with open arms, goading them, inviting them in to planting their rotten seeds on her tormented soul.

**Hope you** **enjoyed the read! T****hanks for reading and please leave a review! I think this is the longest chapter I've written for any of my stories so reviews would make it all feel worth it! ;)**


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